Support is such a warming hug,
So gentle and concise-
It makes me crave it all the more,
And I wander in search of angels.

With dusty hair and a strong brown frame,
My angel pats me so,
Quietly muttering that she'll love me regardless.

Across the room,
With palpable sass,
My devil-angel smiles,
Comforting me with presence alone.

Their marks are left engraved on my skin,
But in a kindly way-
Not ****** as my scolding words,
That I remind me of through pain.